


Assorted drabbles

by embep



Category: Original Work
Genre: Experimental Style, Minimalism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-03-26 22:54:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13867719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/embep/pseuds/embep
Summary: For when I wanna play around with random ideas. They're all probably very edgy, I'm sorry. Contained is:1: Untitled and Edgy2: Untitled and Edgy: The Re-Edgening3: Allow Me To Explain4: Bound5: Untitled Writing Prompt





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I had the first line of this stuck in my head and decided to write the rest. It turned out weirder than I expected. No title.

He told me he would kill me, and then he did. 

His knife cut through my skin and opened me like a present. Hugging the wall, I watched as he reached in and took everything out of me—my blood and my bones and my organs, all removed and thrown aside. 

I marveled at how beautiful I must have looked, scattered across the alley for anyone to see. I had never been so empty or honest in life.

When he finished scraping away the remains of my body, he began stretching my skin, reshaping it. He ducked his head down to crawl into me, then huddled deep in my abdomen. I knew he was giving me himself in full, to make up for all that he’d stolen from me.

I held him as his breathing turned harsh and his body shuddered. If I had lips, I would have said that it was okay. I wasn’t angry or scared.

I was changed, but everyone is eventually. And I liked being what he made me.

Dead.

For hours, days, years and eternities, we belonged to one another, blending into one until there was no me or him, and only we remained. I could have stayed like that forever.

 

Eventually, he peeled my skin off of himself and left me on the pavement, cold and lovely with a pit in my stomach.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I don't have a title for this. Greatly inspired by [this song.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9oKI3w2JGSk)

I smile so brightly that I blind them all.

They look at me and they can’t see past it, swarming around my light like insects. They fly closer, closer to me until I can reach out an arm and burn them alive. 

I’ve been called many names. Son, brother, lover, friend. In the end, they always settle on “monster.” So I guess that’s who I am really, once you see past the brightness and realize that I’m everything I’m not.

But you won’t realize until it’s too late. I’ll give you beautiful looks that you’ll assume is the summation of my person, and you will be smitten. I’ll flatter you and give you trinkets and you’ll let me in as naturally as a warm summer rain, because no one can complete you as I do. 

And then I’ll ravage you. 

You’ll cry and scream and curse me, but your last breath will be spent begging for my mercy.

I’ll glow like a benevolent god as I leave you a stain on my floor.


	3. Allow Me To Explain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sry we're getting edgy again

You're in a well looking up at me, and I stand at the mouth looking down at you. I can see your arms outstretched. I see the wetness of your hair clinging to your face and the quick movements of your chest. Expand. Contract. In and out and back in again. The water that you've displaced paces the area around you. It splashes against the stone and then makes its way back to you, traveling up your body before losing its momentum and returning to the stone face like a living pendulum. It moves back and forth, like it can't decide its place in the universe now that you've taken up the space that it used to occupy. 

I think the world is amazing. Everything in nature is controlled by a set of iron-clad observable rules, yet it constantly contradicts itself. It's big and small at the same time, orderly and random and full of as much mystery as it is discovery.

For instance, they say that light can't exist without darkness, but isn't it the opposite? If darkness is just an absence of the particles that make up our perceptions of what light is, then it's impossible to understand it without being able to perceive light. On the other hand, photons are something that you can measure and understand even if you don't have a frame of reference for what darkness is. 

Do you understand what I'm getting at?

It's kind of like, even though you're down there and I'm up here, it's just a matter of perspective. In the first place, what we think of as "up" and "down" don't even make any sense when you get into it. We associate the word "down" with our placement in relation to the gravitational fields pulling on us, but doesn't everything have a gravitational pull to some extent? The whole idea just gets even more ridiculous when you start thinking on a galactic scale. It's safe to say that you're constantly in a state of being up and down at the same time, no matter where you go--and if that's the case, I don't think it really has any practical meaning.

I know that, right now, my voice is echoing in this well and I know that it's entering your ears, but I have no idea if you can actually hear me. You're unresponsive, your fingers slipping against the wet rocks and reaching up in a way that my temporal lobe interprets as begging. My brain's been hard wired by evolution to conserve human life to ensure the survival of our species, so it's not like I don't want to help you, but I guess it's just another one of those things I've been telling you about.

The world's full of contradictions.


	4. Bound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ha bet u never thought i'd write a drabble that wasn't about some murderer 
> 
> still p edgy tho ;; wanted to play around with sound and repetition but i'm not really sure how i feel about this one

The walls are made of old sheet metal gone red and the floor is cracked pavement.

We're lying down on it next to one another, watching the ceiling drip and counting the seconds in between. I watch as bead of water thickens, rounds out, and sits indecisively for a moment before falling to the ground with a _splat_.

"Twenty seconds," I say, and she shakes her head.

"Eighteen."

I don't respond, because there's no point. 

_Splat_.

"Twenty-two seconds."

"Twenty-one."

The walls clatter and wheeze as the wind blows against them.

Out of nowhere, she asks me, "How many days has it been now?"

"I don't know." _Splat_. "I forgot to count."

She wriggles until her head's against mine. The sound of our hair rubbing together is grating and dry like dead leaves. 

"Me too."

I can tell that one of us is alive, because I can hear the heartbeats, but I can't figure out which of us they belong to.

_Splat._

"Twenty-five."

"Twenty-two."


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's not even edgy this time i'm shocked
> 
> based off of a prompt: I walked into the office with a vague feeling that the new copyeditor was, in fact, a lizard person.

I walked into the office with the vague feeling that the copyeditor new was, in fact, a lizard person. No particular reason why—it’s just one of those feelings that you get sometimes, like when the air pressure changes before a storm and on some primal level you feel it coming in the way the wind blows against your skin just so.

It’s like that. 

There’s nothing especially suspect about him. He’s just a man with brown hair and eyes and a slightly stocky build. As Lewis was introducing us, he kept moving his hand up to his chin to tease a spot that he’d missed while shaving. He smiled so wide when I gave my name, as if he genuinely was interested in knowing the name of a washed-out mother of four. Now, let me tell you, he’s not a particularly charming man, so I don’t want you to get the wrong idea, but for the rest of the day I just couldn’t get it out of my head.

The way I figure it, he activated some primordial sense in me that most people have long since forgotten about, because I don’t have any real way to explain in words what it is about him that set me off. But I watched this documentary the other night about conspiracy theories, and of course I thought the whole idea was silly at the time, of some race of people living underground and controlling our race from the shadows. I still kind of do. After meeting him, though, I’ve begun to think that it might make sense, at least partially. I think that’s maybe how they worm their way up to power—because they trigger this kind of reaction in people, it makes it easier for them to win elections. It’s shown that being able to get people thinking about you is the best way to gather support, and what better way to do that than to latch onto something deep and instinctual?

When I met him by the coffee machine the next day, he asked to see pictures of my children, and for some reason I showed them to him. He asked me about mundane topics like their daycare and my late husband, nodding with every word, like it was the most fascinating story he’d heard all day. 

I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.


End file.
